


A Chance Encounter

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: F/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-18
Updated: 2010-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cersei goes out disguised as a commoner and runs into Robert, who doesn't recognize her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance Encounter

"Hold, wench."

Cersei halted, silently cursing.

Robert staggered across the street with Ser Barristan and Ser Meryn trailing behind him. He was drunk, as usual. _And on his way to some brothel, no doubt._ He grabbed Cersei by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "You look like my wife."

The gods must surely be in need of amusement to do this to her. Cersei had been donning this disguise for years and she'd never been caught. To be caught now, by Robert, and not even be recognized...She wanted to laugh.

"That's very kind, m'lord. Everyone says the queen is the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

"The coldest too," the king said.

Her amusement vanished. _Cold, my lord? Only to you. Jaime could tell you that._ Cersei wanted to wrench free from him, but she was afraid her hood would slip and the drunken fool would realize she _was_ his wife.

Robert was staring at the shape of her breasts beneath her serving woman's attire. "I'd wager you're not cold at all."

"Aye, but my husband is waiting for me."

"Let him wait," Robert replied with a grin. His meaty hands moved down to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them through her roughspun gown. He unlaced her bodice and bared her to the city. "A fine pair of teats."

The white knights retreated to give their king privacy. Cersei was grateful they hadn't recognized her. _Maybe they did and they're going along with the pretense to save us all embarrassment_. They'd taken the torch with them, for which she was also grateful. The dark would help to conceal her identity.

When Robert had mauled her breasts to his content, he pushed her against the wall of an alehouse and turned her away from him. He raised her skirts and probed at her cunt, complaining, "Fuck. You're cold too," when he found her dry. He fondled her the way he had on their wedding night. Cersei had responded then, before he'd called her _Lyanna_. She was determined not to respond now.

It didn't stop him; it never did. She heard him spit and then he was forcing his cock into her. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Robert grunted with each thrust. How she hated that sound. She thought of Prince Rhaegar, tried to remember the sound of his harp and his voice, so soft and sad. But it was Jaime who came to mind; the way he'd say her name when he was inside her, the look on his face, the feel of him.

It had been a fortnight since they'd last been together. The castle was packed with people who'd come for Robert's latest tourney and Cersei wasn't willing to risk being caught. But her twin, impatient as always, was unwilling to wait any longer so they'd made plans to meet in a cheap inn. He was waiting for her now. She knew when she finally reached him, it would be one of those times when he pulled up her dress and entered her as soon as they were alone. She would be wet for him though; she always was.

"That's it," Robert groaned. "Move that arse."

Cersei held her body as still as she could under the force of Robert's thrusts, annoyed at herself for letting her mind wander and unwittingly giving Robert what he wanted. How she hated him. She longed for his death. She would have found a way to make herself a widow, but her children were very young. If Robert died now, his damnable brothers would seek the regency or outright claim the throne themselves and their forces were a lot closer to King's Landing than her father's. So she endured him.

Robert's grunting grew louder and he collapsed, crushing her against the wall, as his vile seed flooded her. It felt like hours before he righted himself, though she knew it had been under a minute. She turned around to find him tucking his cock back into his breeches. "What's your name, wench?" he asked.

Half a dozen common names were on her tongue, but Cersei seized the chance to needle him. "Rhaella, m'lord. I was named for the old queen. I have a son we call Rhaegar. Isn't that clever?"

Robert's mood darkened, as it always did whenever the Targaryens were mentioned. "An ill name. You ought to give the boy another name."

_You ought not to have killed Rhaegar._ "I'm sorry it offends you, m'lord." She tore a strip from the bottom of her dress to wipe herself clean of his filth. When she was finished, she started to lace up her bodice, but Robert stopped her. He gave her breasts one last squeeze before he let her cover herself. Then he looked at her face again in moonlight that seemed too bright.

"You really do look like Cersei." He laughed. "Might be you're one of Tywin's bastards. The old lion likes to pretend he's above all other men, but I'd wager he's had his share of women."

She wanted to slap him and she would have done it if he'd known who she was. But while he'd only give his wife a few bruises, there was no telling what he'd do to some common wench. She swallowed her anger and tried to sound humble. "I must be going, m'lord."

"Go, woman." The king turned his back and started down the street to his bodyguards. Cersei headed in the opposite direction. Jaime was waiting. She would have her revenge this very night, although Robert would never know she gave him horns.


End file.
